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{He couldn’t quite make it to being the hero,
that’s why he’s suffering, isn’t he?}
He will fall.
The engine makes a soft and steady hum as he keeps his foot on the accelerator at a consistent speed. At dawnbreak, Sousuke feels he is entirely too awake. Not unusual, given his recent rehabilitation progress. Waking up with a planned regimen ahead is like clockwork. He’s eager, anticipating. But for the rest of the city? The sliver of sunlight peeking out from behind the clouds is considered way too early for many. To be awake, and surely, to already be out and about.
He keeps his eyes onto the road out of the windshield, making a slight left to keep inside his lane. Flickering lights blink back at him as passing cars drive in the opposite direction, seemingly eager to begin their day. It is still early enough in the morning that their headlights remain on, a dim glow dancing on the tarmac that grows dimmer still with each tick of the clock.
Sunrise.
But even in the brightness of the intertwining lights from both the cars and the waking sun, Sousuke is still able to pick out the bent-over form on the sidewalk. At first, he genuinely thinks there’s a person in trouble, but it takes him only a second to recognise the dark hair and lean form. A form he likely won’t admit to knowing oh-so-well.
And it’s like a kind of instinct that takes over his body. Hands coming to life mechanically with their flick of the indicator to signal left and his foot leaning gradually onto the brakes to pull over. Turquoise hues knit together the moment they spot the form on the sidewalk drop, as if the pavement is the only source of relief and grounding he can get.
And his heart struggles to beat in rhythm, much like the way the other seems to be struggling to breathe.
Each heave of air, every gasp, every huff that Sousuke hears, feels like a tell-tale sign of pain. The way oxygen seems to be repelling from Haru at the moment is almost ironic because everyone knows how much the water seems to crave him. And water without oxygen is…
“Hey, Haru!” he calls out, concern leaking out in every syllable that catches in the morning breeze. “Are you alright?”
The question feels almost redundant because he knows, even before the cerulean gaze swings to catch his, locking onto his almost like a lifeline. He knows Haru is very much not okay and he’s a little grateful that Haru doesn’t reply to his almost silly question.
Because Sousuke doesn’t know if he can honestly handle hearing a ‘no’.
Telling Haru that he can’t be pushing himself like that is only the tip of the iceberg of everything Sousuke doesn’t know how to put into words. But the way those deep blue hues reflect a sort of sombre shadow back at him already says everything he needs to hear anyway; a million ways to call for help.
And Sousuke helps. Throws that lifeline the only way he really knows how to at that moment, and when Haru is safely in his car, enclosed by the warmth and shielded from the pressures of the world beyond them (beyond swimming), he finally lets out a shaky breath.
The weight of the silence is solid, much like the tension Sousuke feels radiating from the other. The way Haru refuses to catch his eyes in the rearview mirror is already a message he receives loud and clear. Sometimes Sousuke truly marvels at the way Haru can speak so loudly without saying anything at all. Or maybe, he’s only marvelling at the fact that he’s able to hear those unspoken words.
He’s been hearing them clearer and clearer with each passing day.
Sousuke realises his reassurances may be falling on deaf ears, and despite being so close in vicinity, Sousuke knows Haru is miles and miles away. And perhaps–even though that thought oddly stings a little–that’s okay for now, for them. There’s just something he’s not willing to push for right now.
Sousuke isn’t good with anything less than optimistic in his life, so he knows, just from watching Haru take small, measured steps away from him later, that one day, probably soon…
…he will fall.
{Swimming against someone really strong
takes a lot out of you, doesn’t it?}
He falls.
The training gym is quiet at this time of night, save for the periodic clanks of metal on metal as Sousuke finishes up his extra weights session. He had felt a tad restless after dinner and running outside hadn’t seemed as appealing as the feel of something heavy on the arms.
He grunts one last time and pushes the bar back onto the bench press slowly. He lays there heaving for a moment, watching the fluorescent lights glimmer above like artificial starlight and he thinks about their training regimen. Although each of their progress has been steady, training hasn’t been easy.
But more so particularly on one individual.
Sousuke sighs, a breath of despondency, and he pushes himself up. He grabs a towel off the bench and runs it roughly over his face and arms. He’s about to consider another set when a sound freezes him in his seat.
There’s a soft panting coming from the next room over. A furrow of the brow brings Sousuke to stand. It’s late enough that most of the other guys should be getting ready for bed. Who could still be in the training gyms? Not that he should be the one pointing fingers though, he supposes.
He slings the towel over a shoulder and heads over to the cardio room.
And the sight that beholds him almost makes him laugh in irony. Because obviously who else does he assume will be training this late at night?
Yet, there’s also a melancholic feeling that consumes him from seeing Haru run on the treadmill. The hero trying desperately to play the protagonist role forced onto him. It’s almost unfair, he thinks.
He steps into the room and makes a beeline to the other, fully intending to coax him to stop for the night or stop the machine if he refuses. The huffs from Haru are beginning to sound like pleas for help and it tears his heart into something he can’t re-piece.
“Time to call it a night.”
He suppose he oughts to give Haru some credit because it only takes him a second to lift a hand to lower the speed down to a steady walk. Sousuke tugs his own towel from his shoulder and holds it out, noticing that Haru hasn’t brought his own one.
A hand reaches out to take it, a lifeline he doesn’t know he needs. A wrinkle of the nose is all Haru gives before using it to wipe the sides of his face.
“I heard you broke your personal best record.” Sousuke offers quietly. He wishes he had better words to praise the other in his efforts, but he doubts that’s what Haru wants to hear anyway.
Haru slows down in his walk and the overly-bright lights from the digital screen are starting to seem glaring. “Ah.”
There’s a brief second of silence that doesn’t seem uncomfortable before Sousuke sighs internally and supplies in a tone that resembles withheld secrets. “Good work.”
“Thanks.” And Haru reaches to turn the machine off. He dabs a little more at his face and hands the towel back to Sousuke, who takes it silently. “But it’s not enough,” Haru adds, turning to face him, blue hues almost dark navy under the shadows of the fluorescent lights. His complexion appears a lot paler than usual right now and Sousuke is almost sure it’s not the trick of the lights.
He wisely chooses not to comment on that, knowing there’s a hidden truth to Haru’s words that he has no right to counter. He himself hasn’t made enough progress to even be on Haru’s level, so who’s he to know what kind of enough is actually enough for them to compete at the global level?
He decides to just hum noncommittally, a sound that is neither positive nor negative, and watches Haru step down off the treadmill.
But it is in that second when Haru’s foot misses the step and Sousuke finds himself reaching out reflexively to catch the other, that he sees it.
In that second when Haru turns panicked sapphire blues onto his—a silent scream for help—that Sousuke feels it click, and he knows. It’s that moment where…
…he falls.
{Friendship isn’t
Just about being nice to each other}
He is falling.
The spring breeze feels exactly like the way autumn brings with it, the chill tinged with sunlight, deceptive and cold. Sousuke feels it twist and turn, and ruffle through his locks before picking up and into the leaves of the tree above. The scent of soil and bark is particularly noticeable today.
He watches the receding footsteps of Asahi and Ikuya fade into the distance and muses on the lingering presence of their warmth. How lucky he… all of them… are, to have friends who go above and beyond to care for, support and think of each other.
Sweeping his gaze back to the sleeping form under the tree, Sousuke falters for a moment. Turquoise turns downcast and his brows knit together to form a unity of frustration. And he wishes for a moment, for things to be easier. He understands their drive and their desires to go global, he also strives for the thrill of being more than just a great swimmer, and he, too, genuinely wants to succeed out there with everyone.
But, as he contemplates the sight before him, with Haru’s breath even and soft, not a trace of a frown nor hollowed looks, Sousuke wonders where the line is drawn; where do dreams end and reality begins, when do dreams evolve and burden takes its place? When does it all become too much?
When do humans stop going beyond their limits?
Sousuke inhales, the scent of tree bark dry, dusty and woody, bringing along with it spring’s floral fragrance. But what is more distinct, the closer he steps towards the resting form of Haru, is the slight hint of chlorine and something that is distinctively Haru. He isn’t sure he’s ever been this clear about this scent, but now, as he gazes down at the other, the soft puffs of breathing mingling with the distant chirping of playing birds, he knows he’s engraved this scent to memory.
Much like many of Haru’s little quirks; the beginning of a timeless scrapbook.
He reaches a hand out and hesitates just millimetres away from the dark locks. “...Haru,” he calls, voice low, as though torn between waking the other up and not disturbing (shattering) the dream within.
A blink. And his hesitation breaks. Because this is where they are now. In the present. Shatter.
The hand drops lower and moves to Haru’s shoulder. The touch both burns and stings a little to Sousuke, a combination of stress and something he doesn’t want to dwell upon.
“Haru, wake up.”
But maybe it doesn’t take the gentle flutter of the ocean blinking stars away for him to realise that…
…he is falling.
{At least notice how much those around you
Care for you, protagonist}
He fell.
It is freezing, Sousuke thinks, which is rather unusual when summer is right around the corner. Yet, when the sun set that evening, welcoming the clear skies with scattered stars, it also brought with it a distinct drop in temperature. And he suddenly remembers the deceptive spring breeze that had felt a lot like the season is sending them all a hidden message. There’s darkness beyond the sunshine.
The concrete steps feel icy as he bends to sit, one leg outstretched, at the side entrance of the training facilities’ dorms. He looks up to where the night canvas is filled with the shine of painted starlight, and heaves a soft sigh that is laced with exhaustion and an odd sense of melancholy. He’s exhausted from the day’s regimen, yet he’s also hit by a wave of restlessness. It seems incredibly paradoxical for him to say so, but sleep isn’t seeking him out tonight.
Sleep isn’t seeking him out, but…
…someone else is.
The patter of footsteps is so gentle, Sousuke almost can’t hear them. They tread over and pause behind him. There’s a moment of silence, broken only by the very distant chirping of cicadas, and neither say anything, as though challenging who will break the melody of the night.
And perhaps it’s that lull that signifies to Sousuke who the person is… because there’s really only a fair few who will approach him without immediately making themselves known. The presence already radiates a sense of a calm, yet lucid aura about them.
Very tell-tale.
Sousuke has an inkling of a feeling that the other likely doesn’t really know why he himself is there nor has any idea how to begin a conversation. Not that, of course, such tranquillity needs the addition of chatter.
So Sousuke says nothing to acknowledge the presence and it’s about as much of an invitation as he can offer, minus the subtle shift to the left as if to make more room. Yet, he only notices that movement after he makes it. And it isn’t long before there’s a few more pads of footsteps and a soft rustle as a lithe form sits itself beside him.
He is about to continue to say nothing, choosing instead to admire the speckled lights above, but he’s unable to ignore the soft thunk of an aluminium can being placed right beside his foot and just within his field of vision. A quiet shout of attention.
“...Cola?” A wry smile paints itself on Sousuke's lips as he picks up that ice-cold can. A stream of nostalgic fondness creeping into his mind like brilliant colours on a rainbow after the rain.
Haru doesn’t look back at him, turning his cerulean gaze to the night sky and taking his turn to bask in the illuminating canvas of faraway dreams. But he does respond, quipping lightly, almost inaudible. “...It was the last one left.”
It is an unnecessary explanation in defence after all, as Sousuke cracks open the can and takes a long sip. That action in itself, is the thank you Haru doesn’t need to hear. And neither needs a how, nor why, only the companionable silence that ensures thereafter.
And Sousuke can’t help but notice how the dark sky all littered with specks of light reminds him so much of the man sitting beside him. The locks of raven and clear, glimmering oceans of blue; a vast expanse of freedom housing them all, nurturing them all.
Haru is the sky. And they all live underneath it.
The most ironic thing is how boundless the stretch of freedom is. Everyone who has swam with Haru understands how much comfort the water brings them and how much potential it draws out from them. All the endless possibilities they inhibit are drawn out just from being in the water with Haru. Every stroke, every breath of air, every push of adrenaline, every ripple of warmth. Every presence they feel.
He almost sighs. Because Haru exists, they are all living their best dreams.
Sousuke takes another sip and the cold, refreshing feeling wakes him up a little more, consuming a bit of the exhaustion he is feeling before. It is cool to the tongue, with a sharp acidic taste that is almost bitter. It all but reminds him of the man beside him. Except…
He turns, hoping to meet the oceans of blue.
…maybe the sweet aftertaste is still a world of mysteries to him, yet unexplored. Tempting.
Haru’s not looking back at him, instead the clear blue gaze is on his forearm where a blueish-grey bruise had formed after a rough training session. “What happened there?”
Sousuke nearly cracks a smile at the genuine curiosity laced with innocence. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just fell.”
“When?”
“...”
The oceans of blue turn to catch his gaze (finally). And together, blue on green, they feel like a tropical aquarium, brimming with undiscovered mysteries.
There’s a moment. A flash of sincerity and perhaps, something deeper than the sea that neither knows how to express. And Sousuke wonders if his eyes betray something within him.
Yes, when did he fall…
He fell.
{Why is everyone so taken by this guy?}
He had fallen.
There’s something reflected in his eyes that he can’t pinpoint. Sousuke can see his own reflection in the glass panels before him. The vivid glow of the setting sun paints the hallway with a glaring shade of burnt orange that feels almost too bright. It turns the cool green of his hues into something too warm for his liking and it kind of inhibits a strange sort of anger.
How did they let him get to this point?
Sousuke approaches the still form, with eyes closed shut, as if blocking out the world of pain. Maybe the world of pain isn’t the one he’s standing in, but one behind those closed doors to the ocean. Maybe he’s the one blocking the pain for them to see.
But Haru appears so peaceful, it’s almost hard to tell.
“I’ll bring him to the infirmary,” he finds himself saying to Makoto, but even Sousuke’s not sure if it’s because he wants to break through those closed doors to rescue or to perhaps, send a message that they’re all here, waiting, supporting.
Or just perchance, it’s for a reason entirely different.
He reaches a hand out and it hovers near the pearly, fair skin. And he remembers the last time he was in this exact position; a sort of springtime déjà vu he doesn’t quite need. But he remembers it all the same, lush green scents of dreams left unvisited.
Except this time, he closes the millimetres and lets his finger lightly brush over the dark locks, as though soothing the crease lines that seem to sketch out a picture of internal struggles. It runs through his fingers like water.
“He won’t make the finals.” The statement is gentle coming from Makoto, a summer’s breeze in the way of words.
“He shouldn’t.” Sousuke corrects, feeling the mild anger resurfacing like bubbles in the sea. Not like this. The ripples sting and he tries to push it under again. In that second, for a minuscule moment, he’s glad that Haru’s not awake because there’s no way, now that they are all aware and in the light of the situation, that any of them will let him push himself any longer.
It’s definitely a blessing he’s not conscious to see the waves of pain swimming in each of their gazes.
And it’s the depth of these waters that will drown him all the more.
Emerald green looks to the jacket tucked somewhat neatly around the prone form. There’s a moment of hesitation before Sousuke all but rips the jacket off and tosses it to Makoto. “Give it back to Kinjou.”
It’s all he says before he bends to loop an arm under Haru’s shoulders and the other under his knees, and lifts the sleeping form into his arms. Sousuke doesn’t pause to elaborate before he makes a beeline for the infirmary. Not that there’s anything he can think of to say, with his mind a buzz of blankness. He doesn’t hear what Makoto is saying to him as he rushes to catch up because the only thing he can feel…
…is the burning heat radiating from the form in his arms.
He isn’t sure if the warmth is coming from Haru or his own body heat, but he hopes Haru can feel the warmth and finds comfort in his support.
Just as he has found the same comfort in Haru's presence.
And Sousuke wonders how…
…he had fallen.
{Who knows? But if you’ve swum with him,
Shouldn’t you understand?}
{I'm not really good with these kinda things,
so I might not be able to say this well.}
He has been falling.
Haru lifts the strap of his bag and tucks his head underneath, letting the weight drop across his chest and shoulder. There’s a subtle quiet of the emptying change rooms of the aquatic centre. Post-races, it seems as though even the stillness of the water from the pools outside is radiating throughout the hallways.
It’s always the aftermath of a competition that makes Haru feel as though he’s falling back down from heaven. The stillness and silence mixed with the scent of chlorine calms his spirit, almost as much as being in the water does. He knows the others are waiting for him outside, but the world can wait because he needs to give this moment to himself. He owes it to himself after the life-changing day.
There’s a foreign weight hanging around his neck and he can’t find it in himself to take it off yet. He doesn’t know what the weight represents because all he knows is he just loves the water and being in it. But after today, he feels like he’s starting to understand maybe just a little what it means to be worldwide; baby steps of clarity.
And if it’s a medal he gets for living his best life in the water with his friends, then he’ll gladly take it.
In fact, he doesn’t want it any other way. Haru wants to swim with them forever.
He readjusts the bag on his shoulder and turns to leave when a voice resonates through the room. “It suits you, surprisingly.”
Haru looks up to catch a brilliant sparkle of emerald looking back at him in amusement. He hasn’t noticed that someone else is in the room, likely waiting for him. The thought warms him up a little from the cold lingering from the drying showers.
Sousuke walks up to him and they both share a moment to eye the gleaming golds that hang from their respective necks. There may be two , but somehow in that moment, in their eyes, it feels more like one medal, from their one race, one team, one spirit; together as one.
And there’s no one else they can imagine sharing this weight with.
Sousuke lifts a finger and traces the outline of the gold hanging around Haru’s neck, a thought lost in his mind. There’s a lot that he wants to say, but in the split second, nothing quite feels right to voice. Instead, he leans down and reaches for Haru’s hand. He lifts it, palm up and places a small kairo into it. The moment is sealed with a bright grin dancing on Sousuke’s lips.
“It’s cold out. C’mon, let’s go.”
Clear cerulean glances down into his palm and for a heartbeat, images and sounds flash through Haru’s mind. The hum of an engine against a melting orange sunrise, bright fluorescent gym lights, the scent of spring leaves and a whisper of his name, the coolness of the aluminium can he’d bought, endless starlight in a sea of painted freedom, warmth seeping behind his shoulders against a solid chest, the verdant hues much like reflections of dense forest canopies.
And he startles as a wave of realisation hits him in full force. He knows.
“Thank you…” Haru begins, but he isn’t sure how to continue. His mind whirls with some newfound knowledge.
There’s a short pause in Sousuke’s steps, but he doesn’t turn, opting instead to laugh the gratitude off. “It’s just a hand warmer. Don’t even mention it.”
“No, I mean, for… everything.”
This time, Sousuke does stop in his steps and he turns, as if drawn in by the odd sincerity. He eyes Haru for a second, trying to read the impassive expression. But there’s definitely a flicker of something akin to nervousness in those blue depths. And although he doesn’t understand where the conversation is going, Sousuke still wants to perhaps, share his honesty, his heart. “Any time.”
But Haru’s not finished and Sousuke really should’ve known because there’s always something more with Haru. “And also…”
The pause finds Haru a little stunned because there’s a shimmer in Sousuke’s viridian hues that tells him exactly what he’s been looking for all this time. The answer to a secret from right within the windows to the soul. It’s almost ironic how easy it seems all along.
He takes a step closer, to bridge the distance that the words don’t seem to be doing. “I know… that you…” And Haru can’t seem to continue or rather, perhaps the words when spoken out loud, will echo through time and lose the magic that’s currently spellbinding them in place.
Sousuke doesn’t finish the line, as though he too, understands why it’s unnecessary.
He does, however, burst out in laughter, the sound echoing a bright crescendo against the walls of the change room. It’s a sound that charms Haru to the spot, like a warm sweater wrapping itself snugly on a cool fall day. Comforting.
“Is it that obvious?” Sousuke asks, his chuckle melting into an alluring smile.
“Mm.” Haru affirms with the barest of shrugs.
“Yes.” He admits and clarity finds itself in Sousuke’s tone. “All this time, I’ve…”
The sentence breaks, but their gaze doesn’t; an enchanting rainbow of seafoam against the shore.
And Sousuke knows Haru knows. He just does.
…been falling.
For you.
{It was worth the wait.}